When a War Hero Dies
by WhiteGloves
Summary: 'What will happen when the War Hero goes down? A martyr for the Wizarding World, a definitive signal for another War.' Newt Scamander's older brother has to keep his head and wits with him as enemies keep coming in his doorstep. Newt recognized the danger approaching his older brother and was a willing participant, except Theseus has change his mind. Theseus and Newt banter!


***When a War Hero Dies***

 ** _by: Whitegloves_**

 _You just got to watch Fantastic Beast 2. My first in said fandom :D_

 _Surprisingly satisfying with brotherly affections~ thus, a one-shot!_

 ** _Enjoy! :D_**

* * *

Newt Scamander was falling from the sky. Nothing new up there with the blue and the white and the rapid wind picking up on his ears—a free fall he considers it in great speed—much the same when he first tried on a broomstick in his first year at Hogwarts and failed to keep both hands on the handle after an exclamation of shock and excitement. In his defense— he _believed_ he saw something _wiggle_ out of the Great Lake when he was at a height not recommended for a first year— for what else could create such a gigantic ripple in the middle of a dark lagoon? But then he had always been discouraged by their professors that there was nothing there; he never quite believed them though and always thought that in the space and darkness of the Great Lake, at least _something must be living under that depth no one has yet discovered._ Merpeople were never a question—but surely even they would have their own little creatures to live by?

And if there really aren't anything of the sorts— _wouldn't the Great Lake just be a perfect place to keep one? A Kelpie, perhaps? But he read they were too dangerous and quite taken to biting skins— his mother was against him finding one—_

Such were his thoughts as he fell headfirst— his professors never quite forgot him.

Going back to the current fall.

Newt braced himself the moment he felt the rustle of leaves around him and green and brown began clouding his vision of blue but his ears were quite adept to the second sound and sight of a multicolored tail on his face— the next thing he knew his back had touched the softest of furs he would give anything in the world to cuddle and sleep on for the rest of his mortal life.

Before he knew it, his feet were back on the ground were dried leaves had fallen and he was being tackled down with something brown and gold and pink that all he could do was wrap his arms on its mane and stroke it so tenderly. His messy hair all over his face, he dropped on the floor and let the adorable giant cat embrace him with its neck—and they stayed like that till Newt felt like a lullaby was chanting on his ears. He began closing his eye…

Yes, this was peaceful. _And yes, this was how he preferred things._

 _He loved magical creatures more than anything and wished for nothing but their company._ He wondered if Pickett has safely returned in his pocket or was the Bowtruckle still falling? He was so light after all.

A heavy rap somewhere on the door, and Newt opened his eyes to the graying sky, not knowing how long he had been asleep. Pushing himself up, he found the Zouwu still drifting contentedly beside him with its giant head on its giant paw. Such innocence. He couldn't understand why so few understand how fragile little creatures they really were despite their appearance. Strong and fierce on the outside but deep inside, a tender heart and terrible loneliness. He could just imagine how this fellow felt when set loose across Paris, all on his own. So, he has to find him another friend so it won't be lonely on days he wasn't around— he had been staying with it for days to keep it company.

So, China would be his next stop, eh?

Not wanting to disturb it, the Magizoologist gently stood up and raced to the stairs of his infinite brown case up to the raucous reality of the Wizarding World.

Upon opening the lid of the case, he found his reliable assistant—though she still keeps losing the Nifflers, bless her heart— waiting for him fretfully by the living room where he occasionally just drops the case when an emergency would call. He gave her one look and couldn't help aligning her with those precious Augurey with eyes ogling at him like he was the strangest of all the strange creatures. But then he began to suspect something was wrong the minute he saw the Daily Prophet on her hands added with anxious features on her usually amicable face.

"Bunty?" he began as one of his feet finally touched the solid floor as he closed the lid slowly. "What's wrong?" He found himself in front of her. He saw her suck some air and looked him in the eyes with visible concern. Newt wondered if any of his friend were harmed but he remained still.

"I lost a Murtlap." She confessed. Relief washed Newt's chest. Her honesty with her job had always amused Scamander.

"Oh. That is a pickle. Where?"

"Oh, Mr. Scamander, that's not exactly what I—it's a terrible news—I thought you weren't home and had gone to deal with the matter, but as I clean your room to hunt for the Murtlap—"

"You cleaned and looked for the Murtlap—? Bunty, you're not a housekeeper— you're only job is to look after the magical creatures, not the household."

"Yes, sir— and I found your letters unopened and your coat hanging by your chair— and the letters had been there two days—" she sounded almost apologetic that Newt had to wave her out of it.

"The only terrible news is not finding the Murtlap," Newt smiled kindly and putting a hand on her shoulder to ease her, his eyes scanning up to the top stairs as if he could see his room, "Thank goodness Jacob is not around, but he has taken the antidote so it should be alright— but if it ate the letters well, that's well… and that coat can be fixed—"

"Mr. Scamander, that's not the news," she caught his eyes when she opened the Prophet right in front of him, showing the familiar features of Newt's only sibling. "It's your brother, sir. He's been attacked again and it's all over the page— three Aurors dead—"

An immediate pause came next as Newt's eyes feasted on the magical newspaper with his older brother frowning in the front page and waving the photographers away with his left hand while his other remained on his side. He was standing just outside the Ministry of Magic and two other men were beside him looking very grim. Newt snatched the Daily Prophet in his hands to read the article but was automatically drawn back to the figure that was his brother walking out again and again off the frame. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with him physically, but reading that the Head Auror had survived yet 'another' attack made Newt look up at his assistant.

"Again?" Newt murmured more to himself, eyes dropping and scanning the whole picture. "I don't understand—this is the first time I'm hearing he's been attacked—when was he first attacked?" he suddenly found himself asking quickly at the unwitting assistant.

Her expression did not bode well. "It's the second time this week. It was all in the mail I left on your table. I thought you would have read it that night—oh sir—"

But Newt was no longer looking at her but at the bold letter in print on the paper— _Scamander a Target: Auror's Head Has a Prize._ Then he read the caption just under it that said: _Theseus Scamander, Head Auror Office and War Hero, believed to be the only Defense of the peaceful Wizarding World has been a victim of another deathly attack. Mr. Theseus Scamander who also has gained massive popularity at being a contender against the Dark Wizard Grindelwald's campaign, and said to be pushed to be the next Minister of Magic—_

Newt read to the last remarks but one thing struck him with all the details as it went on like this, ' _What will happen when the War Hero goes down? A martyr for the Wizarding World, a definitive signal for another War.'_

He read the line again and again as if letting the words sink in but couldn't. He looked up at Bunty and stared at her for a moment in deep thoughts, before nodding and turning on his heels without another world. But then he had to come back, and gave her the prophet, instructing her to put it in his room and to find the Murtlap before it finds its way to any poor Muggle nearby, in this case, still Jacob.

It was when Bunty handed him another paper. A letter.

"What's this?" Newt quickly saw the familiar handwriting of Dumbledore and read his message quick. It was easy as it was only one sentence but it made him frown all the same. _What in the name of Merlin's beard—?_

Bunty's answer came, "It was with the owl that came—are you going to your brother's—?"

Because Newt was already running towards the doorway. He _accio-ed_ his coat and instantly disapparated the moment he could and apparated first thing on the available street near his brother's house.

Unlike his morsel of a home, Theseus lived by himself in fine house with white walls near the Ministry of Magic in London. It was a proper house, much to the kind his older brother was expected to have with his connection and title. Newt never liked there. The last time he was there was for the photograph session for the Daily Prophet announcing Theseus and Leta's engagement and the place felt stiff and confined. Like it usually does. Apparently, Theseus was okay with it and since Newt was not obliged to live with him, he really wished Leta a heartfelt luck.

Except that now, there was no Leta. There was no engagement.

There was just Theseus and his empty home around the corner. It has been two months.

Newt took a deep breath and started marching forward. Without looking around, he knew there were a number of Aurors surrounding the place. He would not be surprised if anyone apparating within this distance was being watched. They recognized him of course. But there was no denying that the threat was real. His older brother was not one to assign his own guard to protect himself—the man feared nothing from the very beginning. But the words on the Prophet got to Newt and this he brought with him as he crossed the streets and entered the gates of his brother's abode.

The sun had already set when the younger Scamander walked on the footpath leading to the black door where he bothered knocking twice. Then another. Finding no answer, Newt hesitated a little but after finding no movements by the window, he took a key from one of his coat's pockets and used it. Unsurprisingly, Pickett appeared before he could insert the key but Newt stopped the Bowtruckle quickly and assured it that he can handle it—Theseus has and will have anti-protection magic against any creatures that would try to trespass in his household. He didn't live with Newt not learn anything about magical creatures for nothing. And he didn't share a roof with Newt without experiencing first-hand the experimental tendencies of one who has set his mind in the Magizoology as a child. Their house library was never the same after Newt was done with it.

Thus, _the key._

Opening the door that creaked into the silence, Newt entered cautiously and quietly like how he would when entering a lair. There was no greeting from any housekeeper or secretaries whom he expected to be guarding the front, nor was there the usual sound of the house dusting itself. There was just full, deafening silence. Newt stepped forth and onto the room he knew his brother would be.

The living room? No. Study room? Plausible but not at the moment. Newt went directly towards Theseus' bedroom where he found his brother by the bookshelves and seemingly absorbed in choosing titles for his liking. Newt came in after one knock, and seeing as his tall older brother had paused slightly to look in his direction, the Magizoologist entered awkwardly and looked around. The room was dark with the curtains drawn and the fireside unlit. His older brother had the lamp on but the dimness radiated with coldness, especially with Theseus unusual silence. Theseus was never the silent one when they were together. Newt had entered a lot of den and this place screamed much like an amphibian's lair. He would not be surprised if one jumped out of to him now.

Shaking his head at the distraction, Newt's eyes found a number of medical bottles by the side table, notably was the _Skelegrow_. This made him look back at his older brother blankly.

"You lost a bone?"

"I thought it would take you another three days to receive the news." Theseus said quietly without looking in his direction. Newt nodded uncertainly.

"My assistant told me because the Murtlap…" his voice died down. No, this was no time to discuss Murtlaps. Although his brother has fair interest in his stories having understood most of the beast because of him, but believe it or not, Theseus had been one of his avid audience before the Ministry took all his attention. Then Newt realize it might as well be for it also took his protective older brother's nagging attention out of his back.

Theseus looked at him over his shoulder inquiringly. That surprised Newt.

"Murtlap?"

"Nothing illegal," Newt promised as he gawkily walked towards the hearth of the room where Theseus was standing close, "It's registered and harmless. And it's still inside the house."

Theseus returned to choosing his books. "Have you considered hiring another attendant? You're awfully out of your house doing business abroad. Maybe it's too much for Ms. Bunty."

"No, she can handle them. You obviously haven't seen her feed the Kelpie."

"And I probably won't, seeing as the last time I did see it, I had to have three drying spells."

Newt grinned at the memory and then finally wading his way towards one of the comfortable chairs and sitting at its arm. Facing his brother, the younger Scamander put both hands together and pressed his lips closed. Theseus stood erect with head bowed on an open book in one hand. This made Newt curious of the other as there seemed to be no physical problem with the way his brother was standing. All was perfectly calm, but should he believe it?

"Were you hurt?" he asked earnestly.

"It's a typical tactical attack." Theseus sighed, "Nothing, I couldn't handle, there was no need to worry."

Newt nodded, knowing full well the man was very capable—like a dragon he was— but still he glanced over his brother's features and wondered what the Skelegrow was for. Shouldn't Theseus be in agony? Or was he really so good at keeping his emotions at bay it doesn't even show?

"I heard three of your men…" his voice trailed away.

"Three brave men," Theseus' voice was a soft whisper but it didn't lose its steadiness, though his eyes narrowed. "Who happened to be joining me for a cup of tea just outside the Muggle entrance."

"Were you able to catch the attacker?"

"Two died by my hands."

"That's what the newspaper said— at least you got the better of them."

"I wouldn't quite agree. There were six of them."

Newt's eyes rounded. The Daily Prophet announced two. Theseus seemed aware of the incorrect report but did nothing to correct it. The younger Scamander pressed his lips for he understood that revealing the actual number would only frighten the mass readers and panic would then ensue. Newt could not believe the assassination plot was this critical.

 _And his brother was at the center—_

"I heard your American friend was planning to stay in Paris? Are you not planning to visit her on occasions?" Theseus broke all threads of his younger brother's thoughts as he sounded almost cheerful. This took Newt by surprised, not at all planning to have a talk about his American friend, Tina Goldstein, when the mere thought of her would have words jumbling in and out of his mouth. The effect seemed to amuse Theseus who smirked and closed the book on his hand before returning it to its shelf. Newt looked bashfully at him.

"I promised her I would get in touch once the ban has been lifted off me."

"I apologize, Newt. I couldn't do anything about your petition. But finding you in Paris was actually illegal no matter how much we gained from your help. A _'help we didn't need'_ as the Minister would say, but then he's always had a say with you working with Dumbledore like that. Never mind him. I got your back. But don't expect the lifting ban. I can only do so much for you."

"I understand. I still have my Zouwu no matter. It's not going be confiscated, is it?"

"It's your job to do the confiscating and taming so leave the hunting of criminals to us, little brother. You realized you've been crossing lines with my job for the past months, don't you?"

Newt blinked. Again, it wasn't the reason he was there but his older brother always had the knack to make it all about him even when the matter so concerned was him. Theseus never liked worrying about himself. He made it his death wish to worry about everything else, Newt especially.

"It's still connected to my friends and, and the Magical creatures," the younger Scamander mumbled quickly, before pointing at his brother, "I was doing what… I was told to do."

"By Dumbledore you mean. Someday I'm going to have to learn what charisma Dumbledore has over you."

"I didn't come because Dumbledore—it happened that Tina was—" Newt caught his last words, but it was too late. Theseus was looking at him with a lifted eyebrow and a smile tugging at his lips.

"I thought you never liked Aurors?"

"I didn't say that."

"You made me feel it."

"Well, I didn't say you could feel that."

"I wonder if I should recruit Ms. Goldstein over Britain?"

"I'd like to see you try. She's the most stubborn and loyal creature—"

"I beg your pardon. Like a Hippogriff, you mean?"

"No, a salamander—"

Theseus stared. "Please tell me you never told her that."

"She's the one who… well," Newt licked his lips nervously. "Let's not go over this. Even Dumbledore has a mind to recruit her—anyways, have you spoken with him? He's bound to make a move now that Grindelwald seems to be after you."

"He was here this morning."

Newt sat straight, and if possible, nearly stood up. Dumbledore coming in person for his older brother was both good and bad. "What did he want?"

"Mostly he just wanted me to be careful." Theseus shrugged like he was given a greeting card.

"That's it?"

"You didn't expect me to invite Professor Dumbledore to be my personal body guard, did you? I mean, those you see outside were set up by the Minister. He's been wanting to push the position on me see."

"Do you want it?" Newt asked solemnly that got his older brother staring at him for a full minute.

"It's not a matter of wanting it anymore," replied the older Scamander quietly, "It's a position where people need to see a champion in the middle of dark times. A beacon of hope."

"You are already both." Newt said a matter-of-factly. Theseus only smiled. "That's kind of you to say."

Newt wasn't finished. "But it also marks you as the sole target of Grindelwald before he comes after Dumbledore. You know he wants to dominate this world and the leaders are the first to disappear."

Theseus shrugged again. "It's all the same. Here and there."

Newt understood his brother's lenient behavior. Being a Head Auror even without being told to, Theseus would be heading that path anyway. His older brother didn't become the world war hero for nothing. Theseus always had the tendency to act and protect. That was his nature. Like a feline mother protective of his young. He dared not mention that to his older brother.

"Don't you want to recruit me now?"

Theseus glanced in Newt's direction as he said this, and gave his little brother a long look.

"Are you certain? That you want to take the job?" His older brother put both hands in his pocket trousers and continued staring at him. Newt blinked at him but never took his eyes away too. "Newt, I know you like the back of my hand. And I know first-hand you are against war."

"It's not like it's a choice." The younger Scamander replied. "You are making your stand and I made myself clear before: I already chose your side. But you haven't mentioned it in two months."

"Two months ago was different." Theseus admitted as he leaned his shoulder on the bookcase, "Two months ago I wasn't afraid to lose anyone. Till I did."

Newt looked down his hand as he also remembered his dear best friend. It wasn't easy in the first few weeks, but Newt had always been inside his comfort zone with the creatures he loved and friends he cherished. He realized he didn't know how his older brother had taken the blow. Theseus was always busy whenever Newt tried to get in touch, until he heard about the latest attacks. "You know we're bound to lose people, brother. Especially with him out there."

"Not when I can help it. I don't need to put you as an Auror even with your given skills, you can always help us in your own way. You can't tell a normal fish to climb trees is what we're always thought in Hogwarts, Transfiguration. One of your favorite subjects."

"Yet Professor McGonagall said any magical fish can do the impossible when courage is at heart."

"Typical Gryffindor." Theseus smiled as he tried to straighten but had to pause in the middle with pain flickering in his eyes. Newt was already standing before he knew what was happening. The attempt of help made the older Scamander to raise a hand to stop him.

"It's alright." He breathed, walking towards a chair with Newt following his every step.

"It's your rib, isn't?"

"Yes. I broke two. Disintegrated inside."

"So, I see the Skelegrow. Made me wonder if you ran all the way to the book case when you heard me come."

"Why would I do something so outrageous like that?"

"Because it's you. You do ridiculous things just to show off like— running to wars and getting Dark Wizard's to come after you because you're the main threat more than the Minister. War hero, indeed."

"Really? And you running off to your beasts when you hear them cry despite poisons and tentacles—or get eaten by the largest jaw is counted as—how would you describe it? _Cute?_ " he sat down with eyes glaring at his younger brother who stood just in front of him looking uncertain. Newt blinked several times, not really intending to irate the wounded man but he had something he wished to say, he just didn't know how to… what was it he was intending to say? He swallowed down and collected his thoughts.

"I'm saying is—why would you be standing when you should be on the bed, healing?"

"I don't feel like staying on the bed."

"And I don't feel like leaving my creatures either."

"So why are you here?"

The two exchange looks again, before Theseus sighed and looked away leaving Newt, feeling he was not getting his message across, remained rooted on the spot, hunched and looking like he wanted to say more. Sensing this, Theseus looked up at him—

"Look, Newt, I'm sorry, I know you mean well, but just right now—"

"I don't feel like leaving my brother either."

Theseus was about to say something else when he heard it—making him pause halfway. Newt looked anywhere else but his brother, shifting on his feet in an attempt to find the right words.

"I am here because I think you need my help." He said slowly, finding Theseus watching him, "And I am offering it to you because I don't think you'd last another day without me."

The older Scamander's mouth opened. "Thank you, Newt. I didn't think you'd be so worried."

Newt blinked in confusion. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"So, am I to suffer your presence then?"

"It's alright. I'll stay quiet."

"I wish you would." The older Scamander watched as his younger brother returned to the chair opposite him. There was a moment where Newt had to clear his throat, but his concern over his brother never waned. There were a lot of things he didn't know happening, especially with Dumbledore not calling him for any special tasks. But he could feel it now, like the rest of the Wizarding World, that finding the Head of the Aurors— his own brother—was already at the brink of the inevitable war— and serving as the ultimate link that once broken would spark up the most awaited war of their time, he couldn't help but feel the need to say more of the matter. While there was still _calm before the storm._

"Theseus, this business with Grindelwald. Does your department have a solid plan to keep you alive?"

"We never keep anyone alive. Not in my department."

"Always with the rigidness— you're not telling me they're actually baiting you?"

Theseus raised an eyebrow at his younger brother as if expecting it so. "Even if we do have a plan, you know I cannot tell you."

Newt stared. "That's a first."

"I never tell you anything."

"You'd be surprised if you read all your mails."

"I am ever discreet, Newt, what are you talking about?"

But Newt continued smiling at him remembering those well-wishing letters that would find him where ever he goes around the globe. His older brother has a habit of updating him with his circumstances and missions, granted they were always secured, at least to the Auror's knowledge. To correspond, Newt was obliged to give the same lengthy detail.

"Theseus, you know these attacks would never stop till you dropped on the floor, dead."

"If that is to happen, I would not go without a struggle."

"I believe you won't, but I would appreciate it if you survive."

"You are underestimating me now, are you, little brother?"

Newt gave his older brother a hard look. "You've been lucky you're so good with what you do, but a time will come when Grindelwald himself will come after you and it will happen. It's a scheme he has to accomplish if he wants to begin his dominance."

Theseus then pressed his lips. "Then so be it. I am not afraid to die, little brother."

That was when Newt saw a glint in his brother's eyes that he didn't recognize. A kind of glint of those men whom he faced willing to do anything to an end's meet. Nervously, it made Newt press his hands together in the uncomfortable silence that fell. Somehow, he knew what Theseus was meaning to do and it didn't sit right with him. Grindelwald was in full power. They barely touched him in Paris, and now his brother was acting like his usual self—someone willing to jump in action because it was _right._ Willing to fight for the cause— a cause Newt had once thought to be unworthy because life keeps wasted. Only to see now that never had his older brother once fought a battle for himself. It was always for everyone else. _Typical Hero._ And typical hero who dies.

Newt pressed his hands on his eyes as the inevitable stared him in the face. _He was to lose his brother in this war._

"Theseus, please. I'm here exactly to prevent that."

"We couldn't prevent Leta's death, and we were both there." His brother's voice had turned soft and still, Newt immediately looked at him. The face he saw was not of his brother—it was the expression of the man that had lost the love of his life—the same man Newt took hold at the last second to save back in the Père Lachaise Cemetery—otherwise the man would have jumped to his death in Grindelwald's protective blue fire. _The face of a man dying._ The very reason why Newt knew he had to choose a side—the side where this man was not going to choose death again, and yet…

The next thing he knew, the younger Scamander was kneeling before his brother with a hand pressing down on his brother's hand.

"Theseus—Theseus, you know Leta didn't die to have you get yourself killed. _She saved us!"_

But his brother closed his eyes and tears began to well, be it for the pain on his chest or on his injury, his brother silently sobbed, and Newt's heart was torn to pieces like seeing one of his harmless creatures being tortured. For his war hero brother to be so much in pain, Newt couldn't help breaking with him. And like the last time, he could do nothing but pull him in a tight embrace.

"Oh, Theseus. It's alright… you're not alone." He sighed and kept his hold, only to find his brother wriggle on the next second, before finding him wiping his tears while smiling.

"Stop treating me like I'm one of your pets, Newt. It's disturbing."

Newt actually smiled. "But I feel like you're just one of them."

Theseus' face darkened. "Don't ever tell me that again."

"Are you okay?"

"Newt, not your pet."

Newt blinked now and straightened a little. His older brother was just like a magical creature now that he thought of it. Except that this one was noisy and much accomplished. Like one of those proud sphinxes. Then again, maybe most humans are just like them. He often thought Jacob was one of his nifflers.

"Newt, you're not listening again."

"Sorry. Are you feeling better somehow?"

"I've got to be else I'll have you patting my head next."

"It isn't the first time."

"The first time was you sleep walking on my bed while dreaming about stroking thestrals just because you couldn't see them then. No— listen," Theseus raised a hand to stop his younger brother interrupting and finally able to collect himself. "Thank you. I know you're worried, but I am not planning to go down easy, Newt. This fight with Grindelwald is not for me. I don't think I'm ever going to be part of its history when the time comes. But I will be doing my best so, Newt, you don't need to be overly worried about me."

"Then you have got to stop saying nonsense about dying. You're not heading on this path alone. I'm coming with you."

"Ah. And are we speaking of hurtling Kelpie in Grindelwald's direction?"

"We are." Newt sighed. "Although in this case, we may need something really dangerous. Don't get me wrong, Kelpies and Zouwus are large, but their just really cats and horses. We need the kinds of a dragon here, a chimera or wampus cat. Or perhaps a niffler will do." New stopped long enough just to hear Theseus chuckle, erasing that forbidding lines of dread and death in his handsome features. Newt had already understood one thing about his brother. Deep within his tough exterior was the kindest of heart, much like the Zouwu. He had never seen him that way before, his older brother had always been the epitome of success and power in the family. The younger Scamander realized that between the image of him being the successful one compare to seeing him dying… he would rather have the former.

His brother's death? He could barely imagine it.

It shall never happen.

"Thank you, Newt." Theseus heaved a very deep sigh as he patted his brother's hand that was on the arm of his chair. "Thank you for choosing my side of the battle."

Newt decided then he needs to find another friend for the Zouwu quick as he was not planning to go anywhere else till this battle was over. He couldn't afford looking after that one person that had always looked after him all these years. He never meant to.

"You're my brother. I'm going to stick with you like bowtruckles on doxy eggs."

Yet even as he said those, Newt had this growing worry that sooner or later, Grindelwald will want his war ignited. And sooner or later the Dark Wizard would come for them. Theseus would never back down, and thus the inevitable fight. What would happen then?

It was then that he remembered Dumbledore's letter, in his pristine hand writing it was written like an oracle:

 _'What would come would come, and we would have to meet it when it did.'_

And stand with him, he will.

* * *

 **-The End-**


End file.
